It’s Friday, and five days since my training started. I’ve been focusing mostly on shooting and physical training.
The shooting is going great. Killer said I’m a natural. No surprise there. The physical part, well that just sucks ass. My stamina is good but my strength is for shit.
Venus suggested a high carb diet, so for the past three days, my eating habits have increased to six meals a day. Not sure what good that’s going to do, but what do I know.
Killer and Zero are my primary instructors. That’s what I was told by Zero the day he explained shit to me anyway but Killer is more invested which is fine by me.
Zero is, well I’m not sure what he is but I’m just going to say he is generous, and his generosity spreads in the form of ‘allowing’ as Spade calls it; the others namely, Spade, Snake, Knight and Storm to train me in his place.
Of course that is unless Rounder makes an appearance then he’s there. Moody and full of shit, but he is there.
My close combat training has been put on hold until I become ‘comfortable’ in my own skin. Spade taught me the first day. He’s the best in close combat, which I found as a surprise. I’m pretty sure he’s the smallest built guy in the club.
It all was going great.
I was learning different ways of blocking punches until he touched me, it was a slight touch on my upper arm. I busted his nose; it was a mistake and I told him so. I also warned him not to touch me again.
The good thing was that he finished the lesson, in return I helped him strap his nose. I also explained to Spade that I didn’t mind touching a man, I just minded a man touching me.
On the second day of combat, Killer arrived. I know I said he could touch me and we were good with the arm touches and leg stuff but then his hand touched my stomach.
He was just getting up from the carpet. My legs instinctively kicked out and I kneed him in the manhood.
Not my favorite moment. He said he was okay but I couldn’t hear much with all his gobbling.
We didn’t finish the lesson but I did get him ice for his manhood.
Then Zero showed up yesterday being his broody asshole self.
I haven’t spoken to him much since that day in the park unless his barking orders was considered ‘talking.’
He just switched off that day in the park. I thought by saying what I said I was giving him an out. I think a piece of me thought that he’d be nicer.
His body was like stone when he explained the program to me in auto mode, and that was that.
I tried to pretend I didn’t notice his episode in the monster vehicle he calls a cage and I know I succeeded so I knew it was me.
That day in the park was one of the longest hours of my life.
After that, the man started behaving similar to Texas and Killer, but where Killer and Texas didn’t know any better and did it to everyone. Zero just had a cold indifference to me.
At least his words were few to none in the five days since. At first, I admit that I was a tiny bit sad by that and I mean very tiny.
The girls were making an effort to be civil and the men were taking time explaining stuff to me.
Zero was the only one who made me feel unwelcome. The only one who threatened my chance at a new start.
It didn’t do good things for my mind.
So, when he came into the training room on the top floor, I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea he trained me and that I preferred Killer and Spade.
I was more comfortable around them. He just gave me a tight-lipped smile and proceeded with the lesson like I hadn’t said shit.
Most of the lesson I was surprised when he didn’t touch me, and that made me feel better. But all good things had to blah blah.
We were going over side and front punches when he barked at me to do push-ups.
I didn’t want to inform him that Spade told me that my arms were too skinny and I wouldn’t be able to hold my body weight on it without a month of lifting weights.
The guy seemed to hate the sight of me. It was obvious Zero didn’t want to be stuck training me and I didn’t know what else to do.
I’d given him many outs.
What more could I do?
I proceeded, and weren’t surprised when I couldn’t get back up. Zero chose that moment to put his hand under my torso to lift me.
I thrashed and he snapped, yelling at me to stop but didn’t move his hand.
I tried hitting him, I tried turning but the asshole put his knee on my back and kept me on the ground.
My body went into shock and my monster came creeping by.
It was hours later I found myself in bed with a sleeping Killer next to me.
Since the first night Killer and I had agreed to share the bed. We had a silent agreement of no touching and he didn’t betray our nonverbal agreement so I went back to sleep.
This morning I woke up, went straight downstairs to put the coffee on and start cleaning the kitchen. Which is my assigned house chore for the week as we all have to do household chores, no matter your rank.
“You live here, you eat here, you sleep here, then you damn as sure clean here.” That’s how Rounder explained it to me. I wouldn’t mind if I had to clean the entire house by myself.
I was just glad I had a place to sleep and a meal to eat.
I was on my hands and knees, using the scrubbing brush on the floor cleaning up the dried dough off the tiles. Brent Eldredge – Don’t ya was blaring from the lounge area.
I might’ve lived on the street of Washington but I knew music.
I used to spend hours in the music shop a block from Lazers just listening to tracks.
The lady that works there didn’t mind, she even gave me old food a few times.
Pity I’m so far away now.
The sound of someone’s footsteps coming into the kitchen had me up from the floor to greet whoever it was.
I grimaced at the sight before me and the words died in my mouth.
Zero’s green eyes glared from across the space.
Cringing at the sight of his jaw that had a purple and blue bruise darkening by the minute as it swelled up on the right side of his face.
He dropped his menacing stare and sauntered closer to the coffee pot trying to hide the tiny limp. It would’ve worked if I hadn’t caught the grimace and soft groan.
I knew who did that to him. Yeah, I knew exactly who because this morning Killer’s knuckles were red.
I asked him what happened and he said something just kept falling into his fist.
We both laughed but seeing the ‘something’ I felt bad.
It was my fault. They shouldn’t have been fighting because of me.
That thought was what led me to here and now. It’s the sole reason how I found myself in Zero’s room.
He’s laying down on his black duvet. I got an ice pack to his jaw and he just asked me to put ointment on his back.
In the kitchen I apologized and expected something, well I wasn’t sure what I expected, but the apology from him wasn’t it.
I softened at that. No one has ever apologized to me. So, I offered to put ice on his bruises.
Funny thing what a week with a group of bikers can teach you. Ice packs, heat rub and iceman were the norm of the day around here.
I was waiting for the sharp no to come from Zero’s mouth and had already gotten back on the ground to continue with the floors.
Zero stunned me when his answer was “follow me.”
And I did, right upstairs into his monstrosity of a room, with a mini fridge, sitting area and bathroom big enough for six.
He got the ice pack from his freezer and handed it to me before he threw himself on his bed fit for a king and patted the space next to him.
Now here we are, his expectant gaze letting me know he is serious.
The Enforcer of The Satan Snipers wants me to put ointment on his back.
“I… I…ah.” I swallow and clear my throat, “I don’t think that’s something I should, you should, ah.”
“What? I should, you should? You not making any sense Beauty. I’ve helped you when you needed it, carrying a dead weight girl up thirty steps aren’t easy and I said please.”
The innocent curious expression riddling his face doesn’t belong on him. It’s not right, but does the trick when he uses that word.
My eyes become saucers at that word and I squirm.
This is my cue to leave this room.
He can see the wheels in my head spinning no doubt. My eyes dart to the door more times than I’ll ever admit.
I’m not chicken. I swear I’m not.
The Enforcer finds my fright to flight funny. His body shakes the bed from silent laughter.
Decision made I drop the icepack next to his pillow and stand up.
I hate being a laughing stock. It’s the one thing I haven’t gotten immune to no matter how many times it has happened.
“Don’t you wanna know what’s so funny?”
“No, I really don’t. I’ll go call Falon.” I turn around toward the white door that’s looking more appealing by the second.
“No.” His harsh voice barks through the walls it’s so loud.
I turn around and glare at him but my anger falls flat when I see him struggling to turn on his stomach.
“I can do this, it’s just ointment.” I say aloud, but it’s for myself not him.
Just ointment on his back and then I’m done. A MAN’S back. I close my eyes; I can do this.
“Beauty come on.” That word again. Why is he using that word?
I walk toward his bed, closer to him and stop.
“Call me Beggar.”
“No.”
I turn my attention to him which was seconds ago on the plush grey carpet.
Zero might be in pain, but I can see it in his hard eyes, that scar creasing under his left eye that he isn’t going to call me Beggar.
He’s an asshole.
I stand there not sure what to do.
Sighing, he loses some of the harshness.
“If you want me to call you something else tell me your name.”
I tread the distance closer to him, nudging him so he lays on his stomach.
“My name is Beggar. Who I was isn’t important.”
We both quieten as I lift his white tee up.
The scars on his back are the first thing I notice. Seeing him like this feels too intimate. A shudder runs up my back.
I lift the fabric higher; the beginnings of a tattoo start to show.
My fingers mistakenly graze a stab wound and he shivers at the touch.
“You need to lift up.” I murmur clearing my throat.
He hisses when he lifts his body up and I manage to get his t-shirt all the way to his shoulders until his entire back is on display.
He has multiple scars. Some from gunshots, some from knife fights, and others from whips.
The tattoo covers most of them.
My hands itch to touch his imperfections. They are the scars of his life, what shaped him into the man he is, the one he’ll become.
It’s all part of life.
My mother always said that the choices we make determine who we become.
I never made bright choices, but they were the choices I made, and I lived with them.
I didn’t come out on the top, but I keep breathing, keep putting one step in front of the other because I’m a survivor.
I, like Zero wear my scars on the outside and inside.
It takes me a second but I see it.
This man is a lot like me.
A fighter.
The thought makes me smile.
never thought I’ll compare myself to someone, least of all a man.
These feeling are foreign to me.
The male population has always been a means to an end.
The worse of the bunch.
I know that there are some men who are great, but I haven’t had the luck to meet any.
But luck granted me a reprieve from bad fortune the day I saved Falon’s life.
These men of The Satan Snipers are not nice but they are kind.
And maybe Zero doesn’t like me, maybe he does secretly want me gone, but he is no monster.
I focus on his marred flesh. I find it harder to inhale the air in the room as it thickens. Maybe it’s getting hotter I’m not sure.
I hope I’m not getting a cold.